Artistic Liberties
by spheeris1
Summary: Utena is creating stories and falling in love with them...but what is reality really? [AU-ish, femmeslash]
1. 1

Artistic Liberties

by spheeris1

Pairing(s): Utena/Wakaba, Utena/Anthy

Warnings/Notes: Shifting POV's, sexual content, angst, post-series yet slightly AU-ish...

-----

_'The Prince watched from a distance, her gaze drawn to the girl on the cliff-edge. The Prince watched in wonder and need as the girl's violet hair whipped around in the wind, curling around the girl's face like a vine. Could she ever save this brown-skinned Princess? Could she ever ride up on a white horse and take her hand?'_

Utena stops there, stuck for a moment. She stares past the page, yet is seeing nothing...Writing can be such a hassle. Utena could have been a teacher or a doctor or...well, maybe not a doctor...but something other than a writer. It is sometimes almost impossible to take the images in your mind and turn it into a story. All the colors and emotions and details running in your brain...put onto paper for the whole world to see...Utena tosses the pencil down and rubs at her eyes. She glances at the clock. It is midnight. Midnight on Thursday and it is raining outside. Her plate of curry-couscous is half finished and left abandoned, an empty beer bottle to the right. Utena leans back and sighs. So many things should have been done today...the laundry, the dishes, taking the mail...She pushes the chair back a little to rock on the back legs. The legs slip on the varnished floor and Utena slams into the ground, groaning with the impact. And then it hits her.

She forgot to call Wakaba.

--

'I am used to it.' Wakaba tells herself. Used to being the last one in line, used to being ignored, used to being...well...used. And Wakaba knows that it is not intentional. It is the truth in every movie, every book...Loving an artist is a lonely life. Of course, when Wakaba first met Utena, the pink-haired girl was a sports fanatic. None of this story-this, poetry-that...but people change. Wakaba used to be a flitty, socially-obsessed girl. Time changes everyone. Wakaba is still a lover of fun and good times, but she is now more grounded. She got through high school and went into college, studying French and cooking and random bits of literature from all over the world. She became a grown-up. When Wakaba met up with Utena again, they drank tea at some cheap college bistro and Utena got up on stage, reading a poem about roses. Wakaba heard the words...but it was Utena's voice she truly heard. The sound of it, the flow of it, the sheer bliss of every word that rolled off of Utena's tongue. And so, Wakaba fell in love.

'I am used to it...' Wakaba repeats softly, starting to fall asleep on her bed...when the phone rings and jars her awake once more.

'Hello?'

'I am so sorry, Wakaba...I got to writing and lost track of time and then I fell over, the damn chair slipped and then I--'

Wakaba cut off Utena, grinning to herself.

'I know. It's okay. I am used to it.'

She can hear Utena sigh, from relief and...hopefully...from some remorse at forgetting in the first place.

'Do you still want me to come over? Is it too late?' Utena asks. Wakaba smiles a bit more.

'I want you to come over.'

'Okay. Be there in ten minutes, tops...' And then the phone clicks.

Wakaba gets up and yawns, wondering if she should clean up or light a candle or pop open some wine. Not that this is a romantic day. No anniversery to celebrate or pivotal moment to acknowledge...but it is Utena coming over. They get to see each other on the weekends, when Wakaba is not in class. During the week, they talk on the phone. Wakaba glances at the calender--one year, ten days--since that day at the bistro. They began dating not too long after that day, some silly film and popcorn. They laughed a lot...they still laugh a lot...Wakaba worries sometimes that for her, Utena is the one...but is she the one for Utena?

--

The first time was so slow and dreamlike. Or that is how Utena remembers it. Every slope of Wakaba's body was smooth and soft. Her skin smelled like lavender soaps and mint, it tasted like cream...Utena once wrote a story for Wakaba, about that night. It was so cute to see the girl blush and propel her body onto Utena, crushing her with a tight hold. Utena loves Wakaba. The girl is so full of life, so bright, so special...How could anyone not love her? The first time they woke up in each others arms was some Tuesday, the sun pushing through the curtain and falling onto Wakaba's bare leg. Utena tried to take a mental snapshot of that morning. Words would have just ruined that moment. First times are so potent, Utena thinks as she knocks on Wakaba's door.

First times soon grow into memories, shift into many times, turn into a way of life. Wakaba takes Utena's hand and leads her down the familar hallway, slipping into the bedroom quietly. They take off their clothes, they kiss and touch and tumble down...never making it to the bed actually...Utena knows this body as well as her own. The first time had discovery and the unknown to get lost in. Now, Utena could find Wakaba's sweet spots even if she were blind. Sometimes, Utena does close her eyes...uses her fingers as her eyes and travels Wakaba's naked body. The dips, the curves, the up-turns and crevices. A sex map, a journey of sensuality...Wakaba groans so deeply that Utena can feel it against her tongue.

The first time is always too fast and too fleeting. Now, they can take their time. Now, they can be assured of pleasure...given and received...It is love. Utena loves Wakaba. Wakaba loves Utena. And so, what does it matter that...sometimes...rarely, but it does happen...Wakaba feels as if she is making love to a ghost. And so, what does it matter that...sometimes...rarely, but it does happen...Utena feels as if her lips are trying to kiss a girl who is not even there.

--

TBC


	2. 2

Artistic Liberties

by spheeris1

Pairing(s): Utena/Wakaba, Utena/Anthy

Warnings/Notes: See first chapter

------------

'We should go on vacation.' Wakaba murmurs the next morning. And Utena thinks it sounds like a good idea. Switch shifts with another girl at the grocery store, pack up her bags and take off with a chestnut-haired beauty. To the mountains, surrounded by trees and lakes and perfect blue skies...Utena turns onto her side, pulling Wakaba's willing body with her.

'Okay. When?' Utena asks. Wakaba places a small kiss against Utena's chin.

'Tuesday...that is a good day to travel I think...They have cabins up there. We can rent one for a couple of days.'

Utena holds Wakaba a bit tighter and the girl moves her lips to Utena's ear.

'You don't have to write...do you...?' Wakaba asks in a whisper.

Utena doesn't dare say, _'I must write, don't you understand? This story...I do not write it, it writes me...it is me, can't you see...?'_ Instead, Utena smiles and kisses Wakaba gently. And that leads to more kissing and to so many other things. And if Wakaba noticed that Utena never said 'no', well...she let it slide for now.

--

At first, Utena thought it was just too much time to think about it. Once you start a story, you must finish it. The idea just sort of...sneaked up on her, one day as she took a bath. The water was hot and soothing. It was late in the afternoon. Utena fell asleep, her head propped up on the edge of her tub. And she had the most intense dream of her life--her feet running along narrow hallways, the heat of unknown wounds were burning her chest, the peel of a distant church bell. Utena woke up shaking and not just from the now cold bathwater. Shaking to her very core...it all felt very real, too real...

Utena hurried to her desk and wrote it all down. Images and sounds and feelings. She felt worn down afterwards, her fingers wet and trembling. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and...just for a second...thought she saw someone else looking back. A pair of green eyes, wide with wonder and fear. And that is when the dreams kept on happening. Every night, a new one would appear and Utena would wake up, in a daze. Then she would write it down, like it might fade from her memory if she did not hurry...the words running together in a rush of ink...

She let Wakaba read it only once. The girl looked over at Utena after reading it, sitting it down softly on the desktop.

'What is this?'

'I don't know...'

Wakaba did not like the story. And she did not have to tell Utena why. It was obvious that the writer had some bizarre connection to the main character, one that seemed all too much like obsession.

_Himemiya Anthy. A beautiful princess with waves of purple hair, trapped in a devious kingdom of her own making. Himemiya Anthy. A little girl who made bad choices and was now bound to them. Himemiya Anthy. A witch with soft skin and sharp nails, weaving spells around the world._

Wakaba didn't have to say she was jealous. Utena could see it in the girl's eyes. And was there reason for Wakaba to feel this way about a false personality? Did Utena feel an attachment to her own creation? Simply put...yes, Utena did.

On the surface, the tale is one that has been told before. Noble prince saves princess, happy ever-after...so on and so forth. But this was no ordinary fairy tale. Utena felt it pulling her one way and then another. Everything was not as it seemed. The princess was not pure and the prince was not always noble. It was a cautionary piece of fiction about the traps of pretending to be perfection. It was about love, the gritty and slimy and deceptive kind of love. It was about games that people play. This story, which came to Utena in dreams and visions, is truly about revolution. And so, that became the title.

--

Wakaba cooked some stir-fry and watched Utena stare out the window. She knew what the pink-haired girl was thinking about. That story. That story about the princess. That story about the princess where the prince was so obviously Utena in drag. Wakaba popped a steaming bit of carrot into her mouth. It was silly to feel this way, of course. Silly...yet...Wakaba hated this princess. Hated her name and her appearance and her words. The story was branded into Wakaba's mind the moment she read it. Something about it was...wrong. It seemed like a fantasy that maybe Utena wanted to happen. And what did that mean anyway? That Utena felt the urge to save someone? That Utena _needed _to rescue a girl...and Wakaba did not need saving?

She shook the thoughts from her mind and tried to focus on the task at hand. Vacation with her girlfriend, cabin in the woods and food on the table. They could joke around and lay with each other all night long. Wakaba dished out the food and set it out. She grabbed a couple of bottles of beer. She lit a candle of ivory white.

'Everything is ready!' Wakaba called out. And it was...well...it was freaky, to be honest. Utena turned around slowly and cocked her head to the side, looking for all the world confused. It chilled Wakaba to see it. Like Utena was lost, like Utena did not know her.

'...Utena...?' Wakaba said, coming closer. Then, just as quickly as it happened, it was gone. Utena was smiling and coming over, grabbing one of Wakaba's hands and kissing it.

'It smells great. If it was not for you, I would starve.' Utena said with a chuckle, pulling out a chair for Wakaba to sit.

And Wakaba does sit. She eats and talks, but all she can think of is Utena...and what is really going on.

--

TBC


	3. 3

Artistic Liberties

by spheeris1

Pairing(s): Utena/Wakaba, Utena/Anthy

Warnings/notes: See first chapter

---------

_It had to be a dream. It cannot be real._ Or so that is what Utena keeps on repeating to herself. She sits, huddled against the night, on the couch... Wakaba is still asleep. Peaceful and resting and sweet. Wakaba can never know of this moment. Utena watches the bed with a mixture of fear and loathing. _It had to be a dream...right? Isn't it just a dream? _Utena shivers in the darkness and tries to rip the images from her mind. She tries to focus on the girl in that bed that is so close...her hair soft against her brow, her fingers curled around the edge of the blanket, her breathing low and steady. But it is not working, no matter how hard Utena stares and wishes and hopes. Utena cannot tell the difference between reality and fantasy now. All she can feel and believe is that...is that... _It was not a dream._

--

_Like every other time, I am walking down this corridor. It is white and blank. All is quiet for a minute or two...then the bells ring. I think of church, I think of home, I think of my family long gone. And then, night turns to day. The sun is too bright, the grass too green, the sky too blue. I am running. I am free, my hair getting caught in the wind. A laugh follows me. Not bitter...no malice...a joyful sound that pierces my heart with happiness. It is her. It is my Princess. I am running to find her, running to be with her once to save her._

Utena woke up this time, a fever burning along her skin. She raised her hands up, the fingers tingling with false sensations. She did not hear a sound...but knew someone else was here. Over to the side, Wakaba, still in slumber. In the shadows, someone, moving. Utena got up, unafraid. She walked silently. She walked with purpose and intent. Someone was here...someone she must see... And then a light came on. And there she was. Utena knew her name, knew her face, knew everything about her.

'Anthy...' Utena whispered. She could feel her own heart beating out a new rhythm, pounding with recognition and pounding with anticipation.

'You know me.' It was not a question, but a statement. Utena wanted to capture that voice and keep it close never forget you...Anthy...' Utena said, coming closer. The other girl just smiled gently and reached out, crossing the gap between the two of them. And Utena could swear that it felt like the world shifted into place in that very second. Utena felt herself crying and it did not shock her to feel those tears trickle down her cheeks. It did not shock her to feel Anthy's warm fingers wipe those tears away. It did not shock Utena to feel soft, pliable lips press against her own. Utena felt weak. Utena felt faint and out-of-breath. Everything was coming in and out of focus.

'Be with me.' Anthy said and Utena could never refuse.

--

_I feel her pull me inside of her embrace, taking care of my clothed body and of my broken sword. I am her Prince. No need for lies here. No need to hide anymore. We lay down in her garden. The roses bloom above us, petals falling down and caressing her skin. When she kisses me, I feel alive for the first time... We move naturally, tugging and grinding and becoming one. She is on top of me, furious movements born of desire...and I have brought her to this place. My touch makes her moan. My tongue makes her grip me tight. Purple hair drifts into my face and I close my eyes. This is so real. This is so right. This is so real... _

--

Utena wakes up and reaches out. An arm makes contact with her fingertips. Wakaba yawns and mumbles and turns over. She does not wake up.

Utena gets up and sits on the couch. _It had to be a dream...There are no flowers here. There is no sword in my hand... _Utena looks around and sees no one. No one else is here at all. It was a dream. Just a damn dream. Utena slips down further onto the couch. And she is not shocked to find herself crying.

_Just a damn dream._

--

TBC


	4. 4

Artistic Liberties

by spheeris1

Pairing(s): Utena/Wakaba, Utena/Anthy

Warnings/Notes: See first chapter

-

"She is not the same." Wakaba whispers to her friend at work.

"How do you mean?"

"Something in her eyes...sometimes...I feel like I am looking at a stranger..." Wakaba continues, shutting doors and opening windows. Her friend follows along, doing nothing. Like always.

"In bed, too?"

"Yuriko! You should not ask me that!" Wakaba exclaims and customers look up. She smiles sweetly and then darts away. Her friend follows slowly, still chewing on her pink bubblegum.

"...In bed, too?" Comes out silently. Wakaba traces her finger over a hidden corner, dust clinging to her.

"She is not the same." Wakaba says.

Her voice is like stone.

-

Utena wrote and wrote and wrote. And dreamed and dreamed and dreamed. Everything came in a rush and, from the moment her eyes opened, Utena was owned by this story. Dawn to dusk. Burning the midnight oil. Calls came and went...Utena could not hear them. The food grew rotten, stinking of mold. The milk went sour. The bread went stale. _This is madness..._ A voice would say, but it came from nowhere that Utena could see.

She stayed up in order to sleep heavily, finding in her dead-like slumber all the answers...all the answers to every question...that she would forget once awake again.

Daylight chased away the sense Utena was trying to make of her life. At night, Utena found a castle and a cause. At night, Utena found Anthy.

Sometimes, the princess was in a dress and dancing. Other times, the princess was soft and delicate in a sheer nightgown. Every once in a while, the princess was tattered in red...the rips in her dress and the wounds on her body were merging together. It made Utena's heart ache with a pain unlike any other.

Then there was the time when nothing happened. Utena would awake and feel like she had been drugged for days on end. She would make up her shifts, she would clean the apartment, she would run to Wakaba and bury her head in Wakaba's lovely hair. They would kiss and talk and eat and make love. The sex would be the only way Utena could find solid ground again, falling from the clouds of her fantasies and into warm flesh. They rocked and rolled and consumed. It was fire. It was dirt. It was all the things it should be...yet...yet...

-

_"Are you real?"_

_"Of course I am...do you not feel me here beside you?"_

Utena watches herself from a distance. Anthy lays next to her, curled around her like a cat. Utena sees her own hand reach out and brush back Anthy's hair.

_"I want you to be real..."_

_"Then make me real."_

Utena thinks that comment has so many meanings. To make Anthy real? Insanity. To bring her to life? Fanciful. To let her out of this paper cage? ...Could it be done?

_"How?"_

_"Stay with me and I will be real."_

Stay with Anthy. Live here in this world with all its dark places and all its bright wonders. Leave behind everything beyond this bed and this love and this realm. Utena is looking away now, up to the sky. The stars are spinning. Utena thinks it should not be that way...but in this world...anything can happen.

_"I love you so much..."_

_"I know, Utena. I know."_

_"Come with me?"_

_"If I do that...I cannot come back here."_

_"Come with me..."_

Utena watches all this fade to black and her eyes struggle with the gray light of another Tokyo dawn. The curtains shift uneasily. The air feels heavy. Utena sits up and looks around.

And purple hair catches her eye, slipping around the corner of her door.

-

TBC


	5. 5

Artistic Liberties

by spheeris1

Pairing(s): Utena/Wakaba, Utena/Anthy

Warnings/Notes: See first chapter

-

"May I help you"

"Yes, I'd like some tea."

"We have many flavors to choose from"

"No. I know which one I'd like to have."

"Okay..."

"It is flavored with roses."

"Roses...? I don't know if we have that, miss..."

"I can show you how to make it if you like."

"No, that's not called for...I can get you something else perhaps"

"No. Rose-flavored tea is the best kind. Wouldn't you agree, Wakaba"

And at that, Wakaba looked up from her magazine. She let her eyes take in the woman at the counter, her neat and tidy dress, her slender fingers resting on top of each other, her calm gaze and her soft smile. Wakaba smiled back, though she felt uneasy...for reasons she was not entirely sure of...

"Do I know you" Wakaba asked, shutting the magazine and walking closer. Yuriko looked between the two of them, chewing her gum and crossing her arms. The woman smiled more fully.

"I know your girlfriend, Tenjou Utena."

Wakaba grinned more at the mention of Utena's name and offered her hand. The woman took Wakaba's hand in her own, shaking it slightly and then let go.

"Any friend of Utena's is a friend of mine...I've just not heard her mention you I guess. What kind of tea did you want again"

"Rose flavored." Yuriko piped up from the sidelines.

"Roses...mmm, I don't know how to do that one...is it a new blend or something" Wakaba asked.

"Very old I am afraid." The woman said quietly.

"How do you know Utena" Wakaba asked. She watched the woman look away, toward the window and out into the street. Wakaba then noticed the woman's hair. It was impossibly long..._it must take hours to clean it and brush it_...and when the light hit onto it, it looked almost violet..._did she dye it perhaps? _

The woman then looked back around, staring deep into Wakaba's eyes...making her feel exposed or trapped...Wakaba cleared her throat.

"Umm...so, how do you know Utena..." Wakaba asked again, her voice trembling. The woman chuckled.

"I barely know her really...I only know that which she shows me."

Wakaba let the magazine fall from her fingers, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. Yuriko kneeled down to pick it up, dusting it off and murmuring to herself. The customers streamed in and out, but they were muted somehow.

"And what does she show you" Wakaba asked in a whisper, knowing that only this woman could hear her question. And hear the fear behind it all.

"Ask her if you want to know." The woman said, picking up her tiny purse and making a polite bow to them both.

"Some people. They make demands like royalty...who drinks roses"

Wakaba ignored Yuriko, but felt a cord pull tight within her and it would not let up. It was like seeing a nightmare come true. It was cold and dark in the pit of her stomach, gripping Wakaba's insides. And it would not let go.

_Like a Queen...like a Princess..._

-

Utena walked for hours. As she rose from bed, there were no sounds...no doors closing, no footsteps on the floor...was it a hallucination? The tendrils of a dream hanging onto dawn? _Anthy is not real. The dream is not real. _Utena repeats that every so often, muttering it to herself. And Utena walks. She traverses the path in the park, watching the new buds starting on the cherry trees. She moves through the streets in silence, despite traffic-both automobile and people. Everyone looks the same. _No purple-haired girl, no princess in danger. _All that leaves Utena is the knowledge that her mind is in a state of definite trouble. Was she always insane? Or did she slowly lose her mind? Is it the story doing this...? Utena tries to tell herself that, maybe, the story should be put away. She could go back to poetry, to writing about strangers on the subways and drunks in the bars. Anything would be better than this, Utena tries to tell herself.

Her cellphone rings and Utena picks up, seeing Wakaba's number.

"Where are you today"

"Just walking. Had a bad night."

"The story"

"Yea. What would you think...if I stopped writing it? Do you think that is quitting"

There is silence for a second before Wakaba answers, her voice sounding very relieved. Utena smiles weakly, closing her eyes.

"I think it would be good for you...just for a while, maybe...to put it away..."

"Okay."

"Really"

"Yes, really. I've not been around much, for you or for other things...I'll put it away."

Wakaba asks her to come over for a party her friends are throwing. Utena says she will be there. And she walks back home, hoping she is doing the right thing. The story. It consumes her sleeping hours, now it is creeping out into the light of day. It is unhealthy. It is distrubing. And what did Utena have to show for it? The tale is still unfinished, her relationships are slipping away and her life is becoming a farce. Just the vision and love for a piece of fiction, just the desire...somewhere deep...to bring the story to life. And Himemiya Anthy, a work of art-but nothing more.

-

The party goes well. The drinks flow and the laughs are loud and the food is delicious. Everyone is talking. Everyone is warm and inviting and real. _Real..._ Utena had forgotten the pleasures of reality. The talk of total bullshit that makes the days go by nicely, the hugs and kisses, the jokes shared over silverware and alcohol. Wakaba is beautiful. Of course, Utena had always found her beautiful...but she is even more so now, now that Utena can truly see. Every time Wakaba laughs, the room just lights up. Every time Wakaba smiles, the world just stops. And Utena is so proud to have her, to be in her life, to have this girl in her own life.

As the hour gets late, Utena draws near Wakaba and kisses the side of her neck. Their friends smile knowingly and giggle and raise eyebrows. Wakaba blushes furiously, but does not move away from the arms Utena wraps around her waist.

"I'll have to get home if I want to make it it into work tomorrow..." Utena mumbles into Wakaba's ear.

"I can't convince you to come home with me then" Wakaba grins.

"Oh you could..." Utena grins back.

"Go get my coat then. I'll say our good-byes." Wakaba winks and then breaks away, moving into the crowd. Utena smiles after her, walking slowly to the room where all the coats were tossed, digging through them like rubble.

She hears the door open and chuckles.

"I know they are here somewhere..." Utena says, looking up and expecting Wakaba's playfully impatient glare. But Utena does not get that. Nor does she get Wakaba at all...Utena doesn't move. She does not even **breathe**. She just stands, frozen...the blood rushing in her brain pounds in her ears, sounding like a roar...

"Anything you want, you can find...Utena-sama..." Himemiya Anthy says from the doorway.

And Utena watches as her own body falls to the ground, crashing onto her knees. Utena's fingers find their way upward, dragging across her own face. _She is not real she is not real she is not real she is not real she is not real. _But when a warm hand slips over Utena's hair and Utena looks up, eyes wide with wonder and terror...

It is all too real now.

-

TBC


	6. 6

Artistic Liberties

by spheeris1

Pairing(s): Utena/Wakaba, Utena/Anthy

Warnings/Notes: See first chapter

-

Wakaba waits. And she talks to friends, always casting small glances to the room where Utena is getting their coats. Something inside of Wakaba is still in knots from early on, from that woman in the cafe... _But why should I feel this way? She is just a friend, she is not that girl in the story...the story is not real... _And the night has been so good. Wakaba had forgotten what that was like, just regular nights with friends. Between her schedule and Utena's, they never got to do this often. And then the story, always looming in Utena's mind. Wakaba was a bit surprised that Utena stopped writing on it...happy, but surprised. _Maybe I can convince her to quit writing it all togehter..._

And Wakaba waits and talks and tells the gnawing doubt to be quiet.

-

"You are not real. This is a dream." Utena whispers.

But Anthy just smiles. Anthy smiles and kneels down and kisses Utena gently on the lips.

And Utena starts to cry, for too many reasons...for her sanity, for her reality, for herself...for Anthy...for Wakaba...

"Shhh, Utena-sama. Do not cry. I am here for you." Anthy says softly, drawing Utena closer like a mother would to a child. And despite all these conflicting voices inside, Utena lets her. She wraps her arms around Anthy's waist and holds tightly. She inhales Anthy's scent, sand and rain and flowers and sunlight.

"How is this possible" Utena sobs.

"Because you made it so, because you wrote me down and brought me to life, because you love me..."

Utena hears the words, tries to piece them together like a puzzle. _It is the end of my mind...or it is real._ Utena pulls away and gets up slowly. She looks Anthy over-her dress, her shoes, her hair, her eyes-and it feels like deja-vu. Utena feels her pulse jump and feels Anthy's eyes catch the movement. Anthy sees everything...of that, Utena is sure.

"Did I create you" Utena asks.

"Yes and no."

"Is that meant to be confusing" Utena laughs half-heartedly, her shoulders and legs starting to shake. _This is all too much, too much and too wild..._

"You and I know each other, from such a long time ago...that time does not matter now. I never thought we would meet again, Utena-sama...never." Anthy says, her eyes briefly looking downward, averting that green gaze.

And for a moment, Utena feels as if a window has been opened. The air blows in and the answers come with it.

"I...I don't like 'sama' at the end of my name..." Utena whispers.

-

Wakaba does not remember much the next day...until it all comes crashing back, tearing new holes in her heart. _I cannot believe it. _She walked to the room, expecting coats and the walk home and the kisses of lovers. She wanted that to happen, but then again...why run to the room? Why run to that room as if it was on fire and Utena trapped inside? Wakaba walked in and stood there. Wakaba watched her girlfriend gently kiss another woman. Another woman. **That **woman. The woman who wanted rose-flavored tea and looked like a princess and made Wakaba feel naked in public. Utena's friend with violet hair... _It cannot be true._

"...Utena..."

And they broke apart. Utena looked so confused. The woman looked so damn calm. And then it hit Wakaba, it slammed her in the gut over and over and over.

"No...nononononononono..." Wakaba wailed, stumbling back out into the hallway.

Utena tried to grab her, tried to talk to her and hold her. Wakaba shoved her away. Their friends circled around, murmuring and staring...but Wakaba did not care.

"Wakaba, please listen to me...I can explain all this...please, I love you...please..." Utena said over and over, running the words together. Wakaba just watched in horror as the that woman stood there, stood there and acted superior, _...like always...just like always..._

"Wakaba" Utena screamed as she ran out of the apartment and down the corridor. Wakaba kept running until she could no longer, the air frozen in her lungs and her muscles aching.

She sat down on the side of the road and did not care to move. Nothing was the same now.

"I cannot believe it...it cannot be true..."

And Wakaba said that again. And again. And again.

But it was true. It was true and unbelievable and painful.

-

TBC


	7. 7

Artistic Liberties

By spheeris1

Pairing(s): Utena/Wakaba, Utena/Anthy

Warnings/Notes: See first chapter

"_Perhaps you should let her go…"_

"_No! I cannot do that…I love her…"_

And so Utena searches all night for Wakaba. The café, friends, shops and stores. She goes to every bus stop, every bus station…train station…flags down taxis as the hours go on…

"_How much do you love her? How long will you go on hurting her…the one you claim to love?"_

"_What the hell…? How dare you say that! I would never hurt Wakaba!"_

Utena did not find her. Utena **cannot** find Wakaba…because she does not want to be found. She finally sits down on the steps to her own apartment. The watch reads five a.m. One hour until the start of dawn.

The night before is over. The day is new. But nothing is the same.

"_You are hurting her…even now…you are hurting her…"_

-

Yuriko shuts the door and lets Wakaba in. She does not question Wakaba, just lets her walk to the couch and sit down. Yuriko continues making some tea and makes Wakaba a cup.

"Did the party fall apart?" Yuriko asks.

Wakaba does not answer. She takes the mug from Yuriko and sips on it.

"What …flavor is this…?" Wakaba asks.

Yuriko smiles slowly, sits her own cup down and faces Wakaba. The girl is just staring at her mug, the question hanging in the air.

"Rose-flavored." Yuriko answers.

And Wakaba stands up. And she hurls the mug toward the wall. Yuriko watches it crash and shatter. Pieces of the cup go sliding and flying outward.

"Should I call Utena?" Yuriko asks.

Wakaba stares over at her, the eyes wide and the mouth open, all prepared to apologize…and she freezes…

Yuriko chuckles.

And Anthy smiles from behind the couch.

_I can end it then. I started it, I can end it…_

Utena gathers all her papers, every scrap and every piece that has anything to do with her story. She puts them in a pile and then shoves them in a folder.

_I created her. I can end her. I can stop this._

And Utena digs through every room, looking for a match or a lighter. She never took up smoking and she was never much for candles. But Utena keeps looking, turning the place inside-out.

_Then I can find Wakaba. I can make this right. I can have her back again and we can be alright…_

A white stick. A red-tip of salvation. Utena strikes it and watches it light up.

She brings it closer and closer. The corner of one page starts to curl and to turn black.

"_You are hurting her…even now…you are hurting her…"_

Utena pinches the flame out.

And she lays down next to her story. And she wishes to never wake up.

TBC


End file.
